You know the moment. The moment that will forever be the line between before and after. The moment that is only supposed to happen to others.
The phone rings. It is cancer. Life will never be the same. You will never be the same.
You keep moving forward. You go to work. You are a parent, spouse, daughter, and friend. You appear to be the same person, but you are not the same. Now you have cancer. You will always be someone who has/had cancer.
More Than Her Share is my story of where I found hope beyond the moment. It is about what is going on behind the brave face. It is an honest journey through the roller coaster of thoughts and emotions we are tempted to hide from our friends and family.
There is no real success when carrying the heavy things of life. There is only survival. There is one more step. I learned that honesty with myself and others brought more healing than staying silent and seemingly strong.
In 2012, they called to tell me they saw something they needed to look at again. I received the most dreaded call, "you have cancer." I was in shock and completely devastated.
Throughout my 2012 cancer journey, I found myself daily being thankful for the health I had and for each moment I was getting healthier. I kept track of each gain in health. I celebrated daily amidst each difficult step. Most days I had to write down all my fears and worries and thoughts so that I could function the rest of the day. It felt like I was doing all I could to survive, to keep walking. I was exhausted. I was in pain. I was just trying to reach the end of this journey.
In January 2015, exactly 2 years after my last radiation treatment from the 2012 cancer, I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. It was a long journey to get close to normal again, and it was a huge burden to add MS to cancer. Keeping my health began to resemble a fight. I kept trying to gain ground so nothing could take me out again.
In 2020, in the midst of a global pandemic, I got the dreaded call back again.
I had cancer again.
The cancer diagnosis and treatment in 2020 brought an onslaught of emotions and grief. Even though treatment was over, I was continually fighting to be whole, to heal and to move forward. I've learned that it's in the broken places where the light shines through, so it's time to find the light and to put myself first.
Cancer and MS tried to steal from me. I fought back to learn how to live in the present moment. I worked to keep my mind and heart from falling into the black pit of depression. I learned lessons I carry with me each day about truly living.
